


Bubblegum  Bath Time

by andachippedcup



Series: Domestic Belle [15]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup





	Bubblegum  Bath Time

She smells like bubblegum.

It’s no small wonder why, really; ever since they found out she was pregnant, she’s taken to drawing herself a bath each night to help her relax and to loosen her muscles. Never too hot (she’s done her reading, no surprise there); apparently water over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit is bad for the baby. So it’s always body temperature and the water cools quickly. So the heat’s often long gone before she’s ready to be done with her bath time fun.

Enter the bubbles.

It’s a bright pink bottle and the liquid inside matches the packaging. Apparently bubbles make cool bathwater more bearable. The fact that the bathroom is always infested with bubbles when she draws a bath though? Well, that hardly makes the bathroom more bearable, but he can manage having a bathroom covered in bubbles, for her sake. 

It’s really rather disconcerting, that his wife’s hair smells  _edible_. But she does so love to play with her bubbles in the bath that he hasn’t the heart to ask her to switch brands to something that smells less fit for consumption. (He does love her usual conditioner which smells of lavender but apparently even that sweet smell is drowned out by the overwhelming smell of bubblegum.)

For the life of him, he doesn’t understand the appeal of the wretched things until one day as she’s drawing the water, he comes in the bathroom (looking for the floss, of all things). She’s wearing her absurdly fluffy blue robe and waiting for the tub to fill when he comes in and her eyes are instantly on him, watching his movements intently. When he presses a kiss to her cheek and turns to leave her to her bath though, she stops him, her hand seeking his and a smile stealing across her lips.

“Stay.” She pleads quietly and he stops instantly.

“What about your bath, darling?” He asks softly, his eyebrows raised as he sets down the floss.

“There’s room for two.” She counters coyly and he can see her cheeks grow a little redder at her own boldness and she ducks her eyes for a brief moment, having flustered herself but just as quickly her eyes are on him again, bright and full of mischief and sweetness and hope that he’ll say yes.

“Unless I’m forgetting something, you count as two nowadays.” He smirks, his nose crinkling in delight as he teases her and reaches a hand to cover her stomach protectively. She sends him a half frown, half smirk as she drapes a hand over his own and stares at her stomach – still flat and yet to show signs of the magic at work within.

She opens her mouth to respond to him but then seems to think better of it. Instead, her hand loosens its hold on his and she’s shrugging out of her robe right in front of him with just a glance over her shoulder at him and a smirk and a wink.

And really, they’re  _married;_ there’s no reason he should get flustered looking at her.  _She’s his wife_. She’s pregnant with his child for goodness sake! But he still gets that familiar flutter in his stomach at the mere hint of her pale, soft skin and he finds himself invariably trailing after her until he’s kneeling at the edge of the tub, peering at his wife over a mountain of bubblegum scented bubbles.

“It’s a shame that it can only fit two.” She remarks casually with the slightest hint of a pout. “I’m lonely.” She adds, her eyes on a little pile of bubbles she’s scooped up in her palm. She plays with them for a moment before bringing her hand level with her lips and then, her lips form a perfect little ‘o’ and she’s blowing them at him and watching with a lazy smile as the foam splatters on his face.

With a wry look, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes away the bubbles, snapped out of his trance by the interruption. When he looks at his wife again, she’s smirking like the devil and she crooks a finger to beckon him closer.

“You got bubbles on you, silly.” She comments quietly. “They’re sticky, you know. You need to wash those off.” She explains, rising out of the water just enough to grasp his tie with her sudsy hand and pull him in closer to her. Before he knows it, her other hand reaches up to take one of his hands and slowly, carefully, she guides his hand so that his fingertips are just brushing against the water; still deliciously warm and body temperature.

“Not too hot, not too cold.” She whispers in his ear. He smiles against her lips, sensing where this is going. Goldilocks and the three bears is hardly a new story to him, after all.

“But just right, hmm?” He asks with a note of amusement but his wife is shaking her head in a firm ‘no’, much to his surprise. “No?” He repeats, looking at her curiously.

“No.” She confirms, her lower lip jutting out at the most pathetic angle. “It’s missing a very specific something to make it  _just_  right.” She sighs, emphasizing the ‘u’ in ‘just’ in a way that has him gripping the edge of the tub to keep from leaping in after her.

Because as much as he wants to (and oh, he  _wants to_ ) he can’t. It took him a very long time to trust himself to touch her when she was just his little Belle. But now, now his wife is  _pregnant_  and he’s treating her like she’s made of porcelain. Because if anything happens to her or their baby, he’s not quite sure what he’ll do.

And so, though the idea of clambering into the tub and making it ‘just right’ for her is utterly appealing, he must resist. But the look she’s giving him is so difficult to resist and the water does feel rather good and those bubbles don’t smell so terrible…

“Please?” She asks, fixing him with her baby blue stare. “I’ll let you play with my rubber ducky!” She offers, giving the little plastic toy in question a squeeze to make it honk loudly and he can only chortle in response.”

It doesn’t take him more than a moment to shrug out of his suit and clamber into the tub after her. And though the water’s at an alarmingly high level, he couldn’t care less the moment his wife cuddles up against him and gives him one of her devil-may-care grins.

“There.  _Just right_.” She purrs and lays her head upon his shoulder with a contented sigh. Then, more mischievously, she adds. “Happy you sprang for a two person bathtub now?”

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to her lips as he nestles against her. He’s just trying to maneuver her so she can sit in front of him and lean back against him when she stops him. Instead, she moves to sit behind him and takes one of the washcloths hanging over the edge of the tub and dips it in the water, then brings it to his back.

Slowly and with great care, she works the warm clothe against his skin, loosening taut muscles and knots he hadn’t known were even there. His eyes flicker closed and he lets his hands roam as she works, playing with the bubbles that pile high around him and hide the submerged half of his body from view. He’s never understood the point of bubbles before.

He’s quickly being made into a believer, though.

His worries prior to entering the tub ebb; his fear of mishandling her all but dissipated in the face of her attentions. Still, he’s careful not to lean any of his weight against her, even in the tub. She may be his brave little Belle but she’s still porcelain in his eyes; accident prone and particularly vulnerable now, with their child in her belly.

Eventually, she tucks her chin against his shoulder and presses soft kisses there, her hands coming to wrap around his middle as they sit in perfect silence, watching the bubbles dissolve. After while, he pulls her round in front of him, so she can rest against his chest and he can recline against the back of the tub.

They stay that way for a while, with his hands wrapped around her front. She moves his palms and places them so that they frame her stomach where he well knows, in time there will be a child, feisty and kicking and hopefully just like its mother, damn near perfect as she is.

The bubbles have all vanished and the water long since cooled by the time that he realizes how even her breathing is and how still she’s become. He cranes his neck to steal a glance at her and finds his wife fast asleep and peaceful, her hands still holding his to her stomach.

With gentle movements, he rouses her and over her apologies, he helps her from the tub, gently pinching her fingers and teasing her about turning into a wrinkly prune. He helps her to towel herself off and then tucks her into her robe over her mumbled protests. He pulls a towel over himself and helps her up the stairs. It’s a fight to get pajamas on; she’s so sleepy he has to help her into them and she seems reluctant to get dressed.

“I’m not that tired.” She insists as she pulls her nightgown on, fixing him with a sultry albeit sleepy look.

“You fell asleep in the bathtub darling. I think that’s your body telling you it’s time for bed.” He smirks, helping her into the king size bed and tucking the covers up to her chin before placing a tender goodnight kiss to her lips.

Belle has taken care of him all this time; even when he’s been unpleasant and uncooperative, his darling little Belle has stood by their love, true as it has proven to be. She’s tended to him through his worst and now, now his housekeeper turned true love is pregnant and he will ensure that she is well tended, her every whim seen to.

He messed up being a father and a husband once; he doesn’t intend to make the same mistake twice. For Belle and their baby, he must be strong, he must be bold, he must be good. He must be  _brave_.

And sometimes, bravery means enjoying a bubblegum scented bubble bath with your sleepy, pregnant wife. 


End file.
